Symphony of Dreams
by lilyplouisa
Summary: Old, discontinued Mary Sue. Like a symphony of dreams, the students' separate, yet irrevocably interwined lives lead to an unexpected finale. With Harry's sister Lilith as the idee fixe, or recurring theme.
1. Overture to the Symphony of Dreams

**Prelude to the Symphony of Dreams**

**"dream (drêm) n. A medium for the expression of various aspects of the self typically withdrawn from conciousness."**

**-Funk and Wagnall's Standard Dictionary**

For once, Hermione decided to go to bed before two o'clock in the morning even though she hadn't finished her Transfiguration essay. Yawning, she packed up her books and parchment before stumbling across her Muggle bedroom to pull a pair of pyjamas from the dresser drawer. After she yanked her nightgown over her head, she collasped onto her queen-sized mattress. Staring at the popcorned ceiling, she began to count the tiny raised dots. Hermione was at forty-two when she heard a soft tapping noise. At first she tried to ignore it but the noise bore into her head as it grew louder. Finally, she sat up and stared around for the source.

It was, of course, coming from the closed window, where a large barn owl held a letter in its claws. Hermione stood up to let it in; it dropped its parcel on Hermione's bed before fluttering over to her desk as if expecting something.

Hermione picked up the envelope, which was addressed to 'Hermione Granger, The Upstairs Bedroom, Granger Estate, Hangleton Village.' She stared at it curiously. It was too early to recieve the annual acceptance letter, but it was obviously written in Dumbledore's swirly handwriting. Wondering what it could be, Hermione slit it open and pulled out the single parchment inside.

*

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_As the top student of your year, you have been chosen for a very special event. Please arrive at the Leaky Cauldron at noon o'clock on the first of July for more information. If this is possible, I await your owl._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster_

*

Puzzled, Hermione moved to her desk and reached for a fresh piece of parchment. She wrote a very formal reply before handing it to the tawny owl, who flapped away immediately.

Ten minutes later, she sunk into her usual dreamless sleep.

*

Several weeks later, Hermione arrived in London in her best Muggle clothes, her parents following her like trained monkeys. She headed confidently for the unnoticed pub on the main street. Opening the door cautiously, Hermione gestured her parents in.

"We'll get your textbooks, then, hun." said her mother fondly.

"Alright, mum. I'll talk to Professor Dumbledore and meet you in Madame Malkins." Hermione replied with a small smile. As soon as the bartender Tom had shown Mr. and Mrs. Granger through to Diagon Alley, Hermione looked around for signs of the headmaster. Spotting him in the corner waving merrily, she wove her way to the small table.

"Hermione!" said the professor joyfully. "Good to see you! Sit down!"

"Good afternoon, Professor." Hermione answered as she sat.

"Now, Hermione, I'm sure you're very curious as to why I've called you here." Dumbledore said, turning slightly more serious. "As you know, the Hogwarts staff is very busy and I'm afraid none of the teachers are willing to host this year's special event - - the wedding of Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart and Ms. Rita Skeeter."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "E-excuse me, Professor?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, I too was surprised when I heard of their engagement. But the couple couldn't find anywhere to hold their wedding - I believe those few who Rita hadn't written about were somewhat agitated by Lockhart - so I agreed to help them. To get to the point, Ms. Granger, would you mind being their wedding planner?"

Hermione blinked. "Of course, Professor, I'd love to."

"You would be paid, of course -- "

"Oh, that's not necessary, Professor. I'd be honored to do anything for the school!"

"That is not the point, Hermione." Dumbledore laughed. "There is no reason for the school not to pay you for your services. Also, you will be allowed access to the staff room and you may eat at the High Table during meals, if you so wish and you are able to go to Hogsmeade whenever necessary. Any charges from the wedding are, obviously, on the bride and groom."

Hermione's jaw had dropped again. "That's a bit much, sir."

"Not at all, Ms. Granger, not at all."

*

Albus Dumbledore watched as Hermione Granger walked away looking confused and sighed. He hated to put such a load on one of his students, but the entire staff despised the former Professor Lockhart, not to mention most of the rest of the wizarding world.

Sipping his herbal tea delicately, Albus prepared for his next task. He had to interview the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but there was something more pressing on his mind: Lilith Potter.

It was now time to deliver the sixth-year her acceptance letter. A little late, but better late than never, right?

The girl was currently living in a foster home in Liverpool, with a couple in their mid-forties. Albus picked himself up and Apparated to the downtown of the city.

*

**I dreamt last night. In the dream, I was with Ron but he disappeared. I looked everywhere, but couldn't find him. Then it started to snow. I was cold when I woke up.**

_Disclaimer: Since I am really quite lazy, this is the official disclaimer for all chapters. Harry Potter and all related characters and insignia belong to J.K. Rowling._

_A/N: The bold above is Hermione dreaming. Hermione's dream, and all the ones following, have been carefully planned out by me, your lovely author, and they all use **symbolism**. So in case you're wondering, I am a Ron/Hermione fan, but not in this fic, nope._

_Please read and review._


	2. I Exposition A Dream Within A Dream

**I. Exposition (Dream Within A Dream)**

**"All that we see or seem**

**Is but a dream within a dream."**

**-Edgar Allan Poe**

It was raining; she could see the water pouring down out of the small bedroom window. It was always raining in her dreams. She watched the rain for a while, then grabbed her pyjamas and her notebook off her desk and stuffed them into a small tattered suitcase. Looking around and seeing nothing else of value, she shut the door to her room, turned off the lights, and crawled out the window. As she climbed down the trellis, she lost her footing and started to fall, dreading the moment she hit the ground. That moment never came, because now she was a bird, flying high in the sky. And then with a bang, she hit a window and fell to the ground dead.

Lilith Aislinn Potter sat up and screamed out of habit. Steadying herself, she listened to see if the Whitakers were awake. The Whitakers were Lilith's foster family and they were the busy type. This meant that if they were up, they'd be doing something "constructive." In Mrs. Whitaker's case, she would do laundry, mop, or make elaborate breakfasts. For Mr. Whitaker, the alternatives were mowing the lawn, barbecueing, and washing his car.

Lilith had not taken to the Whitakers. Their fussy habits greatly annoyed her, and after a short period of trying hard to be accepted by them, she had withdrawn. This was not unusual for her; she had not yet found a foster family that suited her, even after eight moves. The truth was, she was quite picky, defying the statement "beggars can't be choosers."

Lilith reached for her ratty notebook and flipped to the back, where she had written the meanings of some common dream symbolism. She ran her finger down the list until she found the symbols from her dream.

Window: Outlook on life, gain of major insight into your life.

Packing: preparing for significant change.

Falling: Anxiety or failure.

Bird: A dead or wounded bird is a warning of forthcoming worries.

Flying: The desire to break free of restrictions.

Lilith didn't need to look up the rain. She'd never had a dream without rain. It meant depressed feelings. _Bloody rain. I'm not that depressed! _Lilith thought angrily, kicking her bed as hard as she could and stubbing her toe.

Sighing and rubbing her foot tenderly, she turned back to the front and found a clean page to write her dream on before she forgot it. While she was writing, someone knocked on the front door.

Lilith looked suspiciously out of her window, but saw no one. Who would be calling this early?

She stood up, placed her cheap blue pen between her teeth, and went down the stairs. Lilith remembered just in time to jump over the creaky thirteenth step, but slipped anyway and landed on her back with a curse.

Still rubbing her aching back, Lilith opened the door nervously to find an old man with a long white beard and high-heeled boots.

"Ms. Potter!" said the man jovially. Lilith stared at him momentarily. Someone from the agency? Well, if he was, better put on her nicest face.

"I have come to deliver this letter to you." smiled the primeval gentleman, holding out an ancient-looking envelope. Lilith smiled politely before shutting the door.

She glanced down at the address. Ms. Lilith Potter, The Guest Bedroom, 13 Mañana Circle, Liverpool, England. That's a bit scary, she mused. These people know where I live.

Turning it over, Lilith saw a crest with four animals on it. Shrugging, she opened it with her vampire tooth.

_Dear Ms. Potter,_

_I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_You may receive more information by opening the front door._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster_

Lilith blinked. How could the letter say that about the front door? He'd written it before giving it to her, obviously. And Witchcraft and Wizardry? Hogwarts?! What kind of name was that?

Checking the crest once again to assure that there wasn't a pig on it, Lilith pulled out the equipment list.

_Course books:_

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five by Miranda Goshawk_

_Advanced Potions, Book II by Albert Toogle_

_A Study on Muggle Defense Tactics by Srgt. John Croft_

_Signs (Delving into the Unconcious) by Rochelle Byatt_

_Advanced Transfiguration by Miranda Goshawk_

_365 Charms by Elena Nye_

_Please note that all students will need formal robes._

Obviously, this didn't clear anything up with Lilith, though the "Signs" book sounded interesting, if it wasn't one of those fuzzy tarot card things. So she had no other choice but to open the door.

"Tea?" said the elderly gentleman kindly, who now had a kettle in one hand, two cups in the other, and a tray on his head.

*

**My only memory of dreams that night was the faded cover of a battered book. It was wet from the rain. **

A/N: Comments please. Character still in development. And don't worry, there is more than one main character. Ooh, and vampire teeth are the ones on top next to your four front teeth. They sometimes stick out and are pointy.

Note: Both Lilith and Harry are somewhat named after their parents (Harry's middle name is James). However, Lilith's name is similiar to her mother's, but has a completely different origin and meaning. Lily is Latin; it means "blossoming flower." Lilith is Arabic; it means "of the night."

Mañana means tomorrow or sometime later in Spanish. 


	3. II Aria To Die, To Sleep

**II. Sonata (To Sleep, Perchance To Dream)**

**"And by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to . . . 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."**

**-William Shakespeare, Hamlet**

Though almost no one knew it, Severus Snape hated the summer break more than anything else. Out of his haven at Hogwarts, Severus had no clue what to do with himself and he had no wish to remain at the school with the rest of the staff. So he sat in the darkest corner of the Leaky Cauldron every night, keeping a watchful his students. It was inevitable that at least one of them would be there, hiding from relatives or meeting a friend.

Severus had a flair for the dramatic that wouldn't have been wasted in the acting business. However, it was just as useful in teaching--and he certainly did put it to use. Snape was a great teacher, of the type you only read about. He knew how to treat each student to motivate them to learn. What did it matter if some of his techniques caused the classes to abhor him? He wasn't there to be liked, only to teach. It was all he had left.

Severus smiled as he thought of his favorite class: Double Potions with the Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth years. He knew that Slytherins such as Draco Malfoy flourished best if pampered, and students like Neville Longbottom remembered the class only if he tortured the information into them. Harry Potter needed a teacher to challenge him, and Severus certainly achieved that, by raining insults upon him and unfairly taking house points. And Ron Weasley needed to work alone. The presence of others distracted him. Miss Perfect Hermione Granger didn't have a problem with the potions, but she'd be forever hated if her head stayed that inflated. Hmm, a rhyme. Maybe he should have taught Muggle English classes.

This summer, however, there was something else on Severus's mind. With the return of the Dark Lord, he was once again Detective Severus Snape, Private Eye. He didn't mind doing Dumbledore's dirty work, but he often found his mind wandering like this. He wanted the term to start already. Only thirthy-eight days . . . .

"Are you even listening, Snape?!" snapped Lucius Malfoy in annoyance. Severus blinked.

"I'm sorry, but you don't happen to be the most fascinating of people, Lucius." he replied silkily.

The Death Eater frowned. "This is important, you know. The plans have been made for this year's attack on Potter."

Severus held back a snort. Voldemort claimed to be above everyone else, yet he was still seeking revenge like a first-year. "And?"

"They will be announced tonight, and m'Lord wishes to see you before the rest arrive, at seven o'clock."

"Very well." said Snape, swishing his cloak most dramatically and Disapparating behind it, to report the news to Dumbledore. His loyalty was to be tested to-night then.

Severus wasn't worried, he'd held up his evil facade even to Malfoy and his son, and the Dark Lord was only one step up. His only concern lay in the safety of his students, and the fact that they might not all finish their Potions exams. Or, heaven forbid they be cancelled, as they had two years ago! He almost cried at the very thought.

***

Arriving in Hogsmeade, Severus made his way to The Three Broomsticks. He swept inside to see the place almost deserted, which wasn't a surprise, seeing it was barely noon.

"Severus!" called Madame Rosmerta from behind the bar. "Comment ca va?"

Cringing at the woman's terrible French accent, Severus replied, "I'm alright. How are you, Rosmerta?"

"Oh, just dandy." Rosmerta replied. "Business is just booming, you know?"

Looking around, Severus couldn't say he did.

"Would you like the usual, dear?" the older woman smiled.

"No thanks." he answered, already moving over to the empty fireplace. "Have to Floo back up to Hogwarts and talk to Dumbledore. Hogwarts Staff Room!"

"See you later, then!" Rosmerta called, but he was already gone.

***

The staff room was cozy and comforting, though the heat from the stone fireplace was somewhat stifling.The walls were covered in warm cherry wood and still adorned with last year's Christmas decorations; according to Flitwick they had been too good to take down. Several large upholtstered sofas sat atop an expensive Persian rug. A small Victorian coffee table was the room's centerpiece, and several other side tables were hidden by stacks of schoolwork. Muggle lamps had been refitted with enchanted candles that lit only when the room was occupied. More candles were fitted into ornate brass holders on the walls. The only window looked out across the lake, framed by purple curtains. Up until several years ago, the walls had been host to several paintings, but their incessant chatter had finally gotten to the teachers and they had been removed and replaced with Muggle paintings which were far quieter (and some would argue, more expressive). Two long hallways lead to the teacher's bedrooms, completing the picture.

Severus had been standing there for several minutes when a quiet voice interrupted his musings.

"Are you just going to stand there all day, Severus?" Minerva McGonagall teased. Severus turned to glare at his colleague, who was seated with a copy of Mark Helprin's _A Winter's Tale. _

"I was just going to see Albus." he said loftily.

Minerva's face turned serious. "Ah," she said, "about _that_?"

Severus nodded.

"He's in his bedroom," she nodded down the left corridor, "but make sure to knock. I've walked in on some pretty . . . interesting things."

He grinned uneasily. Knowing Dumbledore, "interesting" was more along the lines of painting his toenails pink than a torrid love affair.

Severus went down to the end of the hall to Dumbledore's door, which was a deep gold color, and made sure to knock.

"Severus! Do come in." Albus smiled, opening it. Severus blinked at the old man's robes, which were a very bright yellow in color, and stepped into the bedroom.

The old man's room was as interesting as his robes. Against one wall was a bed with small dancing leprechauns, the Irish National Team's mascot, embroidered crudely on. Off to the side was a black locked door that lead to the school records and Merlin knew what else. Posters of dead Muggle actors covered the ceiling. Most unusual, however, were the five black cast-iron bathtubs lined up along the far wall. One was filled with a dark brown liquid, the second with live cuttlefish, the third with rubber ducks, the fourth with linguine and the last with bright pink bubbles and a Muggle bubble wand.

Seeing where Severus was staring, Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah yes, my bathtubs." Gesturing towards each one, he explained, "That's a new potion I'm testing out, this one was a gift from my brother Albert, the ducks are for Jenna Sprout, the pasta is for my dinner and that's my private bath."

"I see." The potions master said skeptically. Albus smiled thinly.

"So, what news of Voldemort?"

"He will be testing me tonight."

Albus tensed up. "Will you be able to handle it?"

"Of course." Severus nodded. "I have dealt with him before."

The old man stared gratefully at him. "Thank you, Severus. I really do appreciate this, you know."

"It's no problem, sir." Severus replied smoothly, giving a little bow before making an impromptu exit.

Back in the staff room, he grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

"Off so soon?" Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid so." Severus said apologetically, running a hand through his greasy black hair and making it greasier. "Diagon Alley!"

Minutes later, finding himself once again in the Leaky Cauldron, Severus Snape settled into his corner and proceeded to observe Colin and Dennis Creevey fighting over a Chocolate Frog trading card. He was not surprised to see Harry Potter on the front.

***

**Tonight I dreamt I died. I watched the Death Eaters burn my body. I could feel the flames. **

*******


	4. III Recapulation To Light A Light Pt 1

**III. Intermezzo (To Cast A Shadow Pt. 1)**

**"To light a light is to cast a shadow; one cannot exist without the other."**

**~Zen proverb**

It was barely ten o'clock when Lilith arrived at King's Cross Station. She had easily found her way to Platform 9¾, thanks to the instructions of a kind witch in Diagon Alley. However, once arriving, she found the area deserted. Not even the train had gotten in.

Settling down on a nearby bench, Lilith pulled out _A Standard Book of Spells, Grade One_. Her supposedly new copy was ratted and worn, despite the fact that her mysterious vault at Gringotts was filled with gold.

She opened the book to the first page and began reading.

_There are certain spells every young witch or wizard should know, many of them enclosed within these pages. Learning these spells will hopefully leave the new magician with a through knowledge of magic and with a handful of handy charms. More importantly, however, they will learn technique and word articulation to keep spells cleancut and functional. _

It was very dry reading, Lilith noticed immediately, though the content itself fascinated her. She continued to read.

_The key element of magic is the wand. Without a wand, magic becomes very unstable. Wandless magic is often used by Dark wizards and is often deadly to the spell-caster. The wand works as an amplifier, strengthening the user's magic and focusing it. Also, it protects its owner by absorbing the aftershock of the spell. The wand has a core containing magic of its own, such as phoenix feather, unicorn hair, or dragon heartstring. This core solidifies the spell and adds to the caster's magic. _

_Every wizard has a wand that matches his or her magic precisely. The process of selecting a wand is a crucial one, and there are many important factors to consider, such as size, wood type and core. There are experts in this field who are ready to help you. _

Lilith's wand was ebony with dragon heartstring. She had immediately disliked it, hated the way it fit perfectly into her hand, hated the flow of energy that surged through her body. It had felt _wrong_ and yet when she waved it in the air, silver sparks had come flying from the tip.

The passage struck the same dissonant chord within her and she found herself thinking about something her old A.P. World History teacher had said.

"_Never_ take anything at surface level," the Muggle had told them, "look at it from all sides. It's more than likely that the source is biased."

Lilith tried to remember how she was supposed to check for accuracy. The teacher had given them an acronym to use: SOAPS. Subject, Occasion, Audience, Purpose, Speaker. Well, the subject of the passage was the purpose of a wand. The occasion? She supposed it was the introduction to the book. That was a hard one. The audience would be little eleven-year-olds who would take this stuff to heart. The purpose was obvious, to tell kids why they use wands. Or maybe to steer them away from wandless magic? Yes, that sounded about right. The author basically threatened the reader with death if they didn't use a wand. The speaker is Miranda Goshawk, who Lilith knew nothing about. It was interesting to think about.

She knew that she didn't have enough information to tell if the book was biased or not; she'd need more sources for that. But somehow, she was sure it was.

Looking up, she realized that the train had arrived sometime during her thoughts and that students were starting to trickle onto the platform. Lilith stood up quickly and grabbed her trunk, tucking the book under her arm.

She boarded the train after loading her trunk and made her way down the aisles, looking for an empty compartment. She found one and returned to her book, which was now droning on about wand movements.

Before she knew it, the train had started moving and a pair of redheads slid the compartment door open. Lilith looked up at the two warily as they took the seats across from her.

"Mind if we sit here?" said one. "All the other seats are taken."

Lilith shrugged. "You're already sitting." she replied.

The two exchanged hidden glances.

"We've never seen you around here." the first one stated matter-of-factly. "And you're far too old to be a first year. You must be new."

"Yeah." said Lilith simply.

"I'm Fred Weasley. And this is my brother George." he gestured to the other , who waved silently.

"Does he talk?" Lilith asked Fred flatly. His twin hadn't spoken at all.

"Sadly, no." Fred explained. "He's been mute since we were born."

"Can he understand us?" Lilith asked a second question, guininely curious now.

The mute George nodded yes.

"Wow." she said, eyes widening. "I wish I could be mute. Talking can be such an inconvienence."

George smiled quietly and Fred laughed in agreement.

The compartment door slid open once more and another redhead slipped inside.

"George," he said, aiming a glare at the mute boy, "d'you know what Harry did with his winnings from the Triwizard Tournament?"

"We have no clue. Why?" Fred answered automatically.

"I'm not asking you, Fred. I'm asking George." the new arrival shot back. "Well?"

George sent Lilith a sheepish grin before answering, "Why don't you ask Harry?"

Lilith sighed huffily and crossed her arms at the same instant the other boy did.

"I already _asked_ Harry." he whined. "He won't tell me. Why do you think I'm asking _you_?"

"Maybe he has a good reason for not telling you." Lilith spoke up and the boy looked at her for the first time. His face registered vague confusion.

"She's right, Ron." Fred and George chimed, sending Lilith grateful looks. Ron sighed, looked at Lilith one last time, and left again. Lilith glared at the two for a second before opening her book and standing up to leave.

"Wait." said George. Lilith turned to face him.

"Yes?"

"Look," Fred started, but Lilith waved him off.

"I don't need apologies or explanations." she told them. "You're teenage boys. That's all the reason you need."

The twins blinked and looked up at her. Lilith rolled her eyes and turned around once again.

"Wait!" the two chorused.

"_What_?!" Lilith snapped.

"Want to play a game of chess?" said Fred's voice from behind her.

Lilith almost smiled--almost, but not quite.

"Fine." she muttered, plonking back down in her seat.

***

**I fell asleep halfway through the train ride and dreamt I was bleeding. Blood poured from a wound in my side, and the redhaired twins were there but they refused to help me. Dying felt vaguely familiar.**

***


	5. IV Nocturne

**IV. Nocturne ( )**

**""**

**~**

Ginny stepped onto the Hogwarts Express for the fourth time, this time not much different from the three before. Her twin older brothers were already heading for another compartment, her other brother Ron and his loyal friends going the other way. She trailed Ron like a forgotten puppy while her mother waved a tearful goodbye. 

As she followed her brothers reluctantly, Ginny wondered why she felt so unattached from the scene. She ought to be glad to be going back to Hogwarts or worried about the upcoming year. She felt none of that, wishing only to be elsewhere.

Many would say it had happened at the end of her first year. Ginny knew better. She had always been different from the rest of her family. Always.

She was an unexpected child. No, her mum wasn't surprised to learn she was with child again. Ginny supposed she had learned to expect it. It was her gender that got their goat. She had been the first Weasley girl since her great-aunt Melinda.

All through her life, Ginny had been looked on as the odd one out, so it came as no surprise that she grew up to be just that. 

But yes, if she had to be frank about it, it _had_ started in her first year. It had started, in fact, with Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin second-year had insulted Ginny's very being without even knowing her name, only know that she was a fucking _Weasley._ And it hadn't stopped there. Every second at Hogwarts, she was judged for her flaming red hair, her shabby faded robes and her freckles. Just another bloody Weasley. Not the black sheep that she had always been.

This gave Tom Riddle the perfect oppurtunity. Preteen Ginny, suffering from preteen angst, needed someone to tell her she _wasn't_ just another Weasley, that she was special. And Tom Riddle needed a body. 

It struck present-day Ginny as hilarious that Harry the Hero and Dumbledore the Daft knew so little about what really happened in the Chamber of Secrets. Yes, the Chamber had been rightly named, for only she and Tom knew what had transpired behind its doors.

It had not taken the sixteen-year-old hallucination long to figure out that Ginny was as ambitious, proud and cunning as any Slyther. Within ten days, he had discovered her insatiable appetite for love, power and maple syrup. Likewise, it took Ginny only a week to guess at Tom's true identity and even less time to confirm it. After all, she had been hearing about Voldemort all her life.

She remembered the moment Tom told her better than anything else. It was a soggy Saturday in early October and the majority of the school huddled pathetically around their common room fires. Ginny, however, was out in the rain. She was stretched out behind the Herbology tents, writing in her beloved diary, her red hair dripping unattractively and her quill sopping wet. She knew anyone watching would see a light blue bubble surrounding the diary, keeping rain from hitting it.

_Ginny_, Tom said,_ I think I have a solution to all your problems._

Ginny, who had been rambling pointlessly about how much she hated Defense Against the Dark Arts, paused, placing her quill between her teeth. She knew how dangerous Tom Riddle could be. He was a Dark Lord, after all. She had to consider his motives. 

_I doubt that, _she wrote, playing the innocent teen, _my problems will never be solved._

She could almost hear Tom's laughter as he responded, _It's simple, really, but I can't tell you. I have to show you._

The next thing she knew, she wass standing in the Hogwarts library, Tom's ghost-self by her side. Madame Pince was nowhere to be seen.

"It's in the Restricted Section." Tom urged, taking her pale and freckled hand in his insubstantial one. His voice was just as she'd imagined, she noted absently as he led her past rows of spell books to a shelf in the back and pointed to a book on the top. Ginny pulled the book off the shelf and Tom took it from her gently, flipping past a few Dark curses. He landed on a page entitled _The Body-Sharing Spell. _Ginny leaned over the book curiously. A spell for lonely wizards, the subtitle announced. 

"What does it do?" Ginny asked quietly, looking at the older boy.

"It would let me share your body." Tom explained. "Two minds, one body."

Ginny blinked. "How would that solve my problems?" 

"Well, you do want to be different from the other Weasleys." Tom smiled benignly. And then he had told her about the Chamber.

When she looked back on it, Ginny wasn't sure why she had agreed to the spell, but she'd never regretted it. And she certainly wouldn't take it back now.

"Ginny?" said Neville Longbottom's voice, snapping Ginny out of her reverie. "Yes, Neville?" she replied sweetly, grinding her back teeth.

"Would you--d'you think we could--" Neville paused, looking terrified. "D'you want to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?"

_Great, _Ginny thought._ Another date with Lardbottom._

"I'll have to think about it," she said aloud. "I might have some studying to do."

"Great!" said Neville cheerfully, assuming the best and walking away whistling.

It was too quiet. She could feel Harry, Ron and Hermione's eyes on her back.

_Gin_, said a voice softly, rising from the back of her mind. _Are you alright?_

_Fine._ Ginny replied tensely._ It's just that I don't like having to keep this secret. _

_You want to flaunt our relationship?_ Tom questioned skeptically.

_Well, maybe not,_ Ginny admitted, _but I don't want to date Longbottom because of it._

_So don't,_ Tom said reasonably._ People will just assume you're gay._

Ginny laughed._ Oh, shut up._

"Ginny, are you alright?" Hermione said, repeating Tom's question. Ginny got up and looked at her brother and his posse. 

"I'm just overwhelmed that Neville asked me out." she admitted, staring at the floor. "I mean, who would ever like someone like me?"

In the background, Tom laughed evilly.

*******

**I dreamt I was running that night. Running and running and running, through nondescript nothingness. I cried when I woke.**

*******

__


End file.
